


Mother

by ProsperDemeter



Series: 20 Days of Holiday Fics [19]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Good Parent Selina Kyle, M/M, Mother and Son, POV Selina Kyle, Tim Drake Feels, selina is a mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:20:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28198296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProsperDemeter/pseuds/ProsperDemeter
Summary: If anyone asked Selina she would lie and say that she didn’t have a favorite of Bruce’s children.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle, Tim Drake & Selina Kyle, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: 20 Days of Holiday Fics [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035498
Comments: 16
Kudos: 297





	Mother

**Author's Note:**

> 19!

If anyone asked Selina she would lie and say that she didn’t have a favorite of Bruce’s children. It was, of course, a lie, but Selina was good enough at lying that most people barely noticed it when she was. Bruce would notice, about half the time, and look at her with that annoying quirked eyebrow and signature “Bat-smirk” and Selina would kick at his shin with the pointy end of her boots until he winced and looked away. And Selina didn’t  _ mean _ anything by having a favorite. She loved all of Bruce’s children as if they were her own most of the time. 

Except Dick was a bit… much sometimes. He was the first and, therefore, he held a special place in all of their hearts. He was kind, and loyal, and Selina admired his ability to call Bruce out on his bullshit and  _ survive _ but he was also so unfailingly  _ good _ that sometimes it burned her eyes to look at his sunlight. 

And Jason was  _ sad _ in a way that no one that young should be. But he was smart - much smarter than most gave him credit for - and  _ angry _ enough to his very core that Selina ached to watch him burn the world down with his fury. He wasn’t the polar opposite he claimed to be, though, and looking at him reminded her of an earlier, angrier, more visibly  _ in pain _ Bruce. 

Damian was Selina’s favorite pain in the ass. He was so much like his father that it was sometimes uncanny to have a conversation with him. Selina had known Bruce for a long time and Damian, though he didn’t look like his father all that much, was every bit a  _ Wayne _ . But, then again, he was also very much a  _ Grayson _ . The oldest of Bruce’s children was sometimes more of a father to the youngest than Bruce could dream of being and, because of that, Damian was a bit softer, a bit kinder, a bit more  _ good _ than Bruce could ever dream of being. 

Then there was the girls - Barbara was only  _ partially _ Bruce’s. Jim Gordon was a good father by her and she was  _ achingly _ his child. But Barbara was fun to play with, she was easily the smartest of all of them and Selina adored watching her and Dick work together. She had the inherent ability to verbally destroy Bruce in a way that no one else quite could manage. For that alone Selina would adore the tall redheaded young woman. 

Stephanie was another one of Bruce’s not children. She was more Barbara’s than anyone else’s. Selina liked working with her - hard around the edges and so very  _ Gotham _ that she was. Stephanie was clever, funny, and smarter than she looked even if she did things led by her heart. 

Cassandra was quiet where the others were loud but hers was brought upon by trauma more than anything else. A trauma that Selina didn’t fully understand and Bruce was tight lipped about. But she was sweet, and absolutely beautiful. Arguably, Cassandra was everyone’s favorite - tied, maybe, with Dick and just as kind as the older man. Selina had never seen anyone make Bruce  _ melt _ into fatherhood quite as much as her. 

None of them were her favorite, though. 

Because her favorite was leaning over the railing of a museum, reaching out to  _ touch _ a suit of armor on display simply because the sign said  _ not to _ with a vicious little smile. 

Timothy was shorter than the other boys - still taller than Damian but the way he hunched his shoulders made him  _ look _ smaller than he actually was. He had grown his hair out so much that he had enough of the dark brown, thick and stick straight locks to tie into a loose bun behind his head, and his eyes were just a shade or two lighter than Dick’s or Jason’s. He had a scar at the corner of his mouth and so many others littering the skin of his body and Selina loved him enough for the multitude of parents that had never had enough time for him. Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne was a handful for a lot of people, he was the sort of smart that never had to  _ try _ in school and dropped out because it was too easy, was clever enough that he could convince numerous people that he never did anything wrong, was ridiculously talented in anything he deemed interesting enough to dedicate even a thought to, and was the right side of morally ambiguous to turn a blind eye when Selina stole from the very social class he had always been a part of. Selina didn’t tell anyone except Alfred (and Harley but that was because Harley had a way of prying information out of those least expecting) but she had known Tim for longer than any of the others. Selina had stolen one thing or another from a gala and been nearly caught by a sharp eyed little child of  _ maybe _ four who had smiled a big gummy smile and then stolen the attention of every adult in the room by throwing up all over thousand dollar shoes. 

There had been something in that expression that had told Selina that the child was much more aware than most adults and had  _ chosen _ not to alert anyone to her presence. 

She had been intrigued with him ever since that night. 

But this wasn’t about her long, torrid history of falling for men -  _ boys _ , really - that didn’t care if she stole from rich sycophants. 

This was about the fact that Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne was the only bat-kid that Selina ever spent a prolonged amount of time with and she absolutely  _ adored _ the young man. He had smuggled her into the Natural History Museum, even. Hadn’t even offered to buy her a ticket but, instead, distracted the woman at the ticket counter long enough for Selina to slip in. 

It was a small act of theft, if that, but it was enough to give Selina a little thrill down her spine. 

Even Bruce didn’t do that for her. 

She muffled a snicker in the shoulder of her jacket as his fingers brushed the metal, somehow avoiding a proximity alarm, and he shot her an absolutely devilish smirk that rivaled  _ Selina’s _ . 

He had been through a lot, she thought when she slid her arm through his and pulled him slowly through the exhibit on the middle ages. More than most seventeen year olds and Selina  _ knew _ what most seventeen year old superheroes had gone through due to knowing the majority of them. He had met Bruce when he was thirteen, had strode right up to look him square in the eye and stubborn his way into the Robin role - and not for the reason that any of the others had. He hadn’t even  _ wanted _ the title for that long, he just hadn’t wanted Batman to become something he couldn’t turn back from. Bruce hadn’t even  _ liked _ him that much when he had forced himself into his life - Tim was stubborn and impressive, though, and Bruce had rather quickly started to, at the least, admire him. Selina didn’t know exactly when Bruce’s feelings had turned from annoyance to parental love but she knew when  _ she _ had first seen it in him. He had wandered into her apartment on the phone with Tim’s  _ parents _ and arguing with them, loudly might she add, about his  _ grades _ . Bruce thought Tim wasn’t being challenged enough and the Drake’s had thought Bruce was sticking his nose somewhere it didn’t belong. 

Selina had been at the Manor when Tim’s mother had died. She had seen what that did to the child. 

She had also been there when he quit as Robin and offered up a suitable replacement in Stephanie. Except Stephanie and Bruce didn’t mesh well and Tim, over weekly brunches at Selina’s apartment, so very much didn’t know how to handle Jack Drake suddenly caring enough about him to be around every single day. He missed his friends, he missed the Wayne family that he had started fitting into as though it were his own, and he missed the challenge that Bruce’s work gave him night and day. Because Bruce had been correct that day in Selina’s apartment on the phone with Tim’s parents - he wasn’t being  _ challenged enough _ to care about school, or the company, or  _ life _ most of the time. 

Selina hadn’t been there at the brutal death of Tim’s father. She hadn’t been there until weeks later when he had thrown himself in his work as Robin, Bruce was exhausted, Dick was off world, Jason had halted trying to kill the kid, and she had found Tim curled up in the Bat-cave’s big, wheeling chair and crying into his elbow like he had to hold himself together. Selina hadn’t hugged him because he hadn’t wanted to be hugged, but she had sat on the console he was parked in front of him and  _ been _ with him. 

She  _ also _ hadn’t been there when his friend, Connor - Kon-El, Superboy - died but, then again, no one but her noticed the stiff line of his shoulders whenever the clone was spoken of. But that was unfair, Selina told herself, because Stephanie had hugged his arm a little tighter and Bruce had been paying more attention than he ever had before. Selina hugged him then, because he looked like he needed it when he had just lost the first person he had ever, truly, loved. 

Selina had it on good authority that she was the first person he went to when his friend Bart then died. Not Dick, not Bruce, not Alfred, not Stephanie or Barbara or anyone else.  _ Her _ . She hadn’t asked how he had known where she was at the time but he had appeared out of almost nowhere in the middle of a heist and Selina had seen beyond the mask the way he was barely holding himself together. He was tired, and endlessly sad, and Selina had been worried, for a while there, that he was going to do something he couldn’t come back from. She had taken him back to her apartment, told Bruce she had him, and locked the door. Thankfully, her and Bruce had enough history that he respected and trusted her to take care of his children. 

When Bruce had “died” the family had literally broken into dozens of tiny pieces that exploded out into the universe and splintered every single person he had ever touched. Or, perhaps, that was what it had felt like for Selina. She had never loved anyone like she had loved Bruce - it was all consuming and he was in every thought she had ever had since meeting him. Selina had known that she would never love another again but she hadn’t thought of how much his death, his absence - seemingly permanent - would burn. Bruce had died, the entire family was fighting, and Dick, in the action of a young man angrily mourning his father who had no  _ idea _ how to handle everything that had just landed on his plate, had fired Tim from Robin and accidentally removed the one thing that was keeping his brother from going off the deep end. Selina had been angry but she hadn’t been able to place  _ who _ she was angry at. 

But things had gotten better. Slowly and surely and incredibly  _ long _ and Selina hadn’t known what to do with herself when Bruce had come back. 

Except keep things the same. 

_ That _ , Selina thought with a snort to herself and Tim warm against her side, was a  _ very _ long way of saying that she noticed things about Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne that others didn’t. And that she loved him as though he were her own child. “I have a question for you,” She asked with a slow cadence to her voice. Tim looked at her from the corner of his eye and raised an eyebrow in response. She smirked back. “ _ When _ are you planning on telling your best friend that you’re in love with him?” 

It was a credit to Tim that he didn’t balk, trip, stumble, or acknowledge that the question wasn’t one he had expected in any way  _ but _ a twitch at the corner of his mouth. He was wearing the same sort of outfit that Selina was - high end enough that it looked like it could have come from a department store save for the way it hugged every angle on their body. His jeans were dark washed and the right side of tight, his sweater cashmere and a light blue that dipped in a v under his chin. Selina hadn’t meant to match in her navy sweater dress and knee-high boots but she was. They looked like mother and son, like aunt and nephew, like… like family in a way that Selina didn’t look it with the others. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

He knew what she was talking about. 

“Connor. Kon. The flyboy.” She teased in a voice that most people wouldn’t take as a tease. “You’re in love with him.” 

Tim ducked his head and smiled that little smile that told her he knew he had been caught. “He’s my best friend.” He said it to the medieval art he was studying and not her but his cheeks colored uncharacteristically when she squeezed his arm and smiled at the side of his face. “Stop it.” He laughed that quiet, little, real laugh of his - not loud and boisterous like Dick, or warm and chortling like Jason, or deep and from the throat like Bruce - and pushed her a little to keep her moving. 

“Did he already ask you out?” Selina hummed at the next exhibit, right after they had held a lengthy conversation about the startling lack of security at all of Gotham’s museums. Tim rolled his eyes to the heavens and a strand of hair fell into his eyes that he hastily brushed behind his ear. “I bet he took you somewhere charming and small.” 

“ _ Selina _ ,” he laughed again but he didn’t dissuade the conversation. 

Selina knew how he worked. While others thought he was avoiding the conversation Selina knew he was, instead, thinking of the correct way to word his answer. He hadn’t spent much time around people until he was thirteen - he knew the importance of picking the correct words and phrasing to make sure he was heard and understood in a short amount of time. He had never gotten the peer-to-peer nonverbal communication that the others - even raised by ninja’s  _ Damian _ \- had. He had been neglected in most aspects of his life and, because of that, he was working at a disadvantage in relationships and communication that Selina was proud to see him grow out of. “Paulie’s Diner.” 

Selina smiled in delight. “A week ago?” 

“Friday special.” Tim didn’t look at her while he spoke but, instead, at the vase they had wandered over to. “Want to go to the gift shop?” 

“Are you going to buy me a mug?” 

“Why would I buy you anything?” 

Selina loved him. She loved him when he bought her a mug, bought himself coffee that she was sure would be gone by the end of the week, and charmed the cashier into accepting a hundred dollar tip. She loved him when he held open the plastic bag for her to empty  _ her _ mug, tea, and paperdoll kit for the little girl next door into, tied it off with long, expert fingers, and placed it gently in the top of her purse for her to take back to her apartment. He sat behind the driver’s seat in his car, drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and said, when the light was green, “Bruce doesn’t know.” 

Which meant that  _ no one _ knew. Selina grew soft and placed a well manicured hand on the curve of his forearm.  _ I won’t tell _ , it said. It would just be another one of their secrets until Tim decided it was information Bruce needed to have. 

A week later he nudged her arm at the outdoor shopping center, handed her an overly priced but  _ delicious _ coffee, scratched at the tip of his cold, red nose with a leather glove, and asked, “Want to see a picture?” 

Tim was never an  _ open _ person, not like Dick was, but he was never as closed as Bruce. Selina admired the way he had grown to trust even the few people he did. They were matching again, Selina noted to herself with a small laugh, his knit had the color of Selina’s green eyes. He had a healing gash on his collar bone that Selina couldn’t see but knew was there under his wool coat and he looked the sort of well rested that meant he was tired. “Show me.” She didn’t pluck the phone out of his fingers but leaned over his shoulder to see the screen. He kept the brightness down, as he always did, and had a privacy screen that meant that unless he was showing it directly to her she couldn’t see a thing that was on it but when he tilted it her way Selina felt almost hopelessly warm. 

She had met Clark Kent’s clone a handful of times, at parties or funerals or sleepovers. He didn’t  _ look _ the part of farm boy the way Clark did. He wore leather coats, had one pierced ear, and round eighties style sunglasses with a wicked smile. Selina knew that, in Bruce’s eyes, he would never be good enough for Tim. But in the picture he was showing her she had to admit that they looked good together. Connor - Kon, Tim would always correct with a ferocity that most didn’t understand - was smiling from cheek to cheek with white shining teeth. He was a full head taller than Tim, a full person broader, but also an entire country gentler than Tim ever was. He had an arm in a dark maroon hand-me-down coat wrapped around Tim’s trim waist and another holding up a peace sign, his signature round sunglasses hanging off his nose and the most puppy-dog eyed look of love that Selina had ever seen. And she had seen the way Damian looked at his cat. Tim, for his part, had never looked happier with his close lipped smile, pink cheeks, and dimples on display. “Christmas tree farm?” She asked instead of pointing out the obvious.

He shrugged and nodded as though it was nothing. “I was sneezing the entire time.” 

Selina didn’t think much of it, but she pulled him tight to her chest in the same manner for just a moment, more affection than Tim usually let her show and kissed the top of his forehead. “How does he feel about petty theft?” 

Tim huffed and squeezed her wrist -  _ his _ version of a hug in a group of people and locked the screen of his phone before sliding it into his pocket. “He frequently partakes in it.” 

Selina smiled brilliantly. 


End file.
